


Party Time

by Blueberryshortcake



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Cuddles, Don't Try This At Home, Gen, Maine looks out for everyone, Recreational Drinking, fluff week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 14:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14239713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Blueberryshortcake
Summary: Maine hears ne’er do wells in the hanger and goes to investigate. He’s got his hands full with these two.





	Party Time

Snickers and intermittent shushing echoed down the hall. Maine tilted his head. If it was the loading crew fooling around it would be trouble for Niner in the morning. He had noticed her stress levels had been up recently with the new rotation of recruits. One glare from him would get everyone to straighten up and save her a headache, so he headed down following the giggles. 

He startled by an excited screech and watched as Agent Connecticut tumbled through the air out of armour, a skateboard flying in the other direction. He shifted on instinct and caught her.

Knife!!

He sidestepped as a knife bounced off the wall where he had just standing.

“Hoooooly smokes,” Agent Washington was off to the side on a small set of stairs hand still up.

Connie was caught up in a fit of giggled in his arms. “Good–good catch, big guy!”.

Maine squinted. Beside Wash was an almost empty bottle of liquor.

“Ah…” He said looking between the two.

“Okay, okay…okay it’s … it’s my turn,” Wash said staggering upward catching the rail.

Maine looked between the two.

“It’s fun,” Connie snickered. “Do I even weigh anything to you?”

“No nonono–you said you’d show me how to throw the–oh that does look fun though. Can I…Maine…Maine can I too?” Wash asked.

Right. They were completely drunk and bound to get in trouble or hurt themselves. Maine adjusted Connecticut in his arms and crouched down. Wash quickly wrapped his arms around his neck piggybacking. At least they weren’t in armour.  

“Where’er we going?” Connie asked.

“Bed,” Maine answered shortly.

“Nooo,” Wash whined swinging from his neck a little. “It’s party night. Idaho–Iowa and I-Ohiya–they stole–borrow–stole Missouri’s stash, but they fell asleep first!”

Connie looked up at Maine. “We drew dicks on their faces.”

“You drew dicks on their faces. I drew whiskers,” Wash corrected.

“And then Wash asked if I would teach him how to throw knives,” Connie rambled, “So I said only if he taught me to skateboard.”

“Oh?” Maine hummed holding back amusement. Really these two. That explained the scene he walked into.

“We thought–it would be better out in the open, but we’re on a spaceship,” Wash continued as if that wasn’t common knowledge, “And so the only open place is the hanger.”

“Right,” Connie agreed.

“Or the training room, OH the training room!” Wash gasped, it suddenly occurring to him. Connie cackled in reply.

Right, perfectly logical. Maine shook his head at them.

“Whoa!” Wash almost lost his hold. Maine stopped. He put Connie down momentarily and picked Wash up. Connie climbed on his back sitting on his shoulders.

“How do you not hit your head all the time?” She asked as he bent low for one of the door ways. “I can touch the ceiling up here.”

“Don’t–Don’t talk about the ceiling, ceiling is spinning now. Agh,” Wash moaned.

These two weren’t going to last much longer. Maine moved into the upper level recreation room. It was late, there were only a few soldiers lingering, and a quick sharp grunt from Maine cleared them out quick.

“This isn’t bed,” Connie pointed out.

“No,” Maine agreed. He hauled the two of them to the comfiest couch letting them gently tumble down onto the cushions. Before he could step back both of them caught his arms and weakly tugged. He could have easily pulled away, but he let them pull him down on the couch with them. Wash flopped down with a tiny moan, head on his lap and Connie snuggled up next to his shoulder.

“Next time you should drink with us,” Connie yawned. “I bet you’re a fun drunk.”

“I’ll leave that to you two,” Maine rumbled. Wash snored and Connie drooped into a doze. Maine yawned. Maybe he might come though ‘next time.’ If nothing else than to keep an eye on them. He let himself drift off to sleep as well.

The next morning Wash’s hangover was bad enough that Maine didn’t punish him for the whiskers on his face.


End file.
